Fortune Favours the Brave
by SiriusWhack
Summary: Beth Greene's dream had always been to perform. Her singing had won over the hearts of many whilst she was in school and now she'd finally gotten round to trying to make it big. In retrospect, dropping out of college and trying to become famous was a stupid idea. One night, after a small gig she starts thinking about one of her roadies, Mr Daryl Dixon, in a new way. AU one-shot.


Beth Greene was a lucky girl. Her life had always been relatively easy, especially being 'daddy's little girl'. When she had asked for numerous instruments as a child, she'd received a new one each birthday and Christmas, always making sure to learn whatever as much as she possibly could. On her 16th birthday, she'd been given a small car. It was rusted and old but it was hers. When she'd dropped out of college to pursue her singing career, her parents had been supportive. Everything seemed to fit into place for her and it was only a matter of time before this did too.

They'd been on the road for months now, playing venue after venue. Each show seemed to get good reviews but they were still stuck playing in the same old shabby bars. No real shows with a paying audience. Their decision to "go and become famous" was a stupid one, in retrospect, but it was the path they'd chosen and they were sticking to in. No good things came to those who gave up.

Beth pushed her hair back from her face and took a sip of her water. They'd just finished playing a smell set in a bar called "Woodhouses". It was close to Beth's home town, if she remembered correctly. She was sure this was where she spent her teens years trying to get served and failing miserably. It had been redecorated since but she could never forget the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol. The performance had been good and she was bathing in her 'after-show buzz'.

A banging noise bought Beth out of her thoughts and she realised that the roadies were moving the equipment back into their van. How they'd ever found roadies was a mystery to Beth. They didn't even pay them!

One roadie in particular caught her attention. Every time her band played, the roadies would set up and then disappear to the van until the show finished. He was different though. He'd sit and watch the performance, eyes fixated on Beth. When they finished he would go back out the van and wait for start packing the equipment. No words were ever spoken between him and Beth but she thought there had to be some sort of connection for him to watch her like that.

She sat, watching his arms muscles flex each time he lifted the heavy tech equipment, and sighed happily. He looked older than the others - probably mid 30's - and definitely didn't look like the sort of man who'd be lugging around amps. His age didn't seem to hinder him in anyway though. In fact, she was sure that he did twice as much work as the other roadies and didn't complain about anything being too heavy or too much to carry. His approach was a shabby but in a handsome way. The words devil-may-care came to her mind. Beth thought he'd be much better suited to motorbikes and beer than he would cramped vans and whatever cheap wine they could afford that week.

She racked her brain for his name and eventually landed on Daryl.

"Daryl..." She tested the name in her mouth and smiled when it rolled off of her tongue. She must have spoken loudly because within seconds he was walking towards her.

"Yeah?" He asked, gruffly. One of his eyebrows was raised curiously and Beth blushed lightly at being caught.

"Oh..." She replied,not knowing what to say. He watched her stammer and blush for a few seconds before walking away, going back to finish his job. Beth's heart sank at her pathetic attempt of conversation. She left her water and went out to sit in the van with her other band members.

When she got there, it seemed the 'after party' was in full swing. Bottles of wine had been opened and everyone was talking and laughing between themselves. She saw Daryl stood by the rear doors and moved towards him, determined to actually talk this time. A drink was thrust into her hand by someone and she mumbled a quick "thank you" without breaking her stride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" The words were out of her mouth before she had chance to think about what she was going to say. Daryl seemed caught off-guard by the sudden question but quickly recovered.

"Yeah." He said, "was good." A small smile graced the corners of his lips. It was awkward and hardly there really but it was the most Beth had seen him smile since he'd started working for her.

The more the pair drank, the easier the conversation flowed. No longer was Daryl awkward and closed-off, he was relaxed and was comfortable enough to playfully nudge and tease her. "Shouldn't I be takin' these drinks from ya? Y'hardly seem old enough." His shoulder knocked into hers and she mock glared at him.

"Fuck you!" She laughed. "I'll have you know that I am 22 years old."

"Whoa, calm down there Princess. Shouldn't be hearin' that kinda language from a kid."

"Oh yeah, sorry. I guess I should be respecting my elders." She winked at him and laughed again at his disgruntled face. He moved forward menacingly, trying and failing to intimidate Beth. She was, however, surprised at how close they were sitting.

Suddenly, she was aware of how their breath mingled and noses brushed. Without a second though, Beth moved her hand up, letting it linger on Daryl's chest as she closed the gap between them. He seemed shocked and didn't move for a few seconds but as soon as his brain caught up with what was happening he was responding in earnest.

Their lips slid together ungracefully and when she felt his tongue pushing into her mouth, Beth thought could die happy then and there. He tasted of the cheap wine they'd been drinking and something slightly tangy that she presumed to be pure _Daryl_. Teeth clashed and bit into lips and it was perfect.

They broke apart at the sound of wolf whistles and shouts of encouragement. The others had stopped celebrating to encourage the unlikely pair. Beth felt her blush come back full force and didn't think she could get redder. That was until she felt, more than heard, three words whispered against her ear.

"To be continued." Yes, Beth Greene was a _very_ lucky girl.

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**Thanks for reading, folks! I'll be updating La Douleur Exquise soon. I had a bit of writers block which is why I wrote this little drabble/one-shot to help me through it. What do you think? Should I do another chapter of this with them doin' the nasty? Let me know in the reviews! :)**


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